The Midnight Cleaning Company

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I woke with a jolt, briefly unaware of where I was. Above me the canopy of autumn leaves blocked out most of the moonlight. The small amount that made it through the thick tangle of branches was filtered by the dying leaves, casting an eerie red glow over my surroundings. The noises of the fireworks had ceased. I had no idea how long I had been unconscious.
I climbed wearily to my feet and trudged slowly back to the car park. My colleagues were already there, counting our losses and gathering the corpses of both sides for disposal. I surveyed the scene, saw the vast majority of the mangled bodies appeared to be Rogues, and concluded that our tactic had paid off.

Someone had already retrieved the two vans, the recruits were helping the old hands pile the corpses inside. Half had survived, passing their test of induction. I watched them toil, caked in mud and blood with ashen faces, and considered them all now colleagues.

I pushed my way through the gathered Cleaners, patting a few on the back to signal my approval, grabbed one of the black hold-alls from a van, and joined Charles and George in spraying chemicals and pressure hosing the tarmac to extract the bloodstains.
When all the bodies had been removed and the evidence cleaned, we prepared to leave.

Andre moved slowly past me at a funereal pace. In his arms he carried his friend Marcus. From the way his head drooped backwards over Andre's forearm I could tell he was dead.

Andre did not place Marcus' body into the back of the van with the others. Instead he walked solemnly past and out onto the street. I followed to accompany him back to the office. Neither of us said anything during the short walk.

I was not good at comforting people. I had lived amongst death for so long that I had become jaded to it's impact, a fact that I had not realised until I watched Andre grieve. His devastated expression reminded me of emotions I had felt at similar situations in the past. During our short and silent journey, I mused upon faded memories of fallen friends.

By the time our funeral procession had arrived at the office, both the vans had parked and were in the process of being unloaded. Due to the number of corpses, all my colleagues were involved in helping transfer them to the disposal room. The bodies of fallen members of both sides were unceremoniously rolled out of the back of the vans and dumped into grotesque piles on the cold stone floor, to be collected and dragged to the waiting disposal vats in an emotionless assembly line.

Andre walked past them all, Marcus' body still cradled in his arms. Everyone stopped what they were doing as they watched him pass on his way to the disposal room where he carefully lay Marcus' body in the centre of one of the empty vats. He placed him down as gently as a sleeping baby, as if he was being careful not to break him.

I saw both Nathan and Killer-Bee's gaze flicker between Andre's respectful ritual and the corpses piled on the floor. Shame strained their faces and the two began to separate the bodies of the fallen recruits from the mound of broken and mangled flesh. The rest of my colleagues and I joined them. Michael tugged on the limbs of a body I recognised from the training sessions, while the giant with the onyx coloured skin and bulging muscles turned by John, used his incredible strength to lift the contorted flesh of the Rogues that pinned the deceased recruit down. The body of the recruit finally came free after much effort. I looked down at what was left of the man. The fatal wounds inflicted during the skirmish had been exacerbated by our pulling to free him from under the pile. The cuts in his chest had been stretched open like in an autopsy, and the skin on his face had slackened and lost its shape on one side. As I stared at his dilated eyes I realised I had never learnt his name, and felt a wave of guilt. 

"What is your name?" I blurted out to the huge man who had lifted the dead-weight of the Rogues off the nameless soldier.
"Jacob", he replied in an impossibly deep and booming North African voice.